 Hitching one shoulder up for a second, Eric reached over and tapped the leather carry bag he’d stuffed all the files into. “I read about the killings here and when I heard about the offer of a job, that was what made me decide to move.” “The dead bodies interested you?” “Sort of.” Eric leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I know how nuts this is going to sound, but I’ve spent years studying serial killings and collecting data from all over the country. About five years ago, there was a series of murders near Cleveland. There were six killings and then they stopped. No one was caught, no reason for them to stop. No reason for them to happen that anyone could find. The thing is, these killings here are the exact same.” “So, you think it’s the same person?” “This is where we get to the crazy part. Every five to ten years there are a series of murders just like these in an area. I’ve found them all over North America dating back to the 1700s. Many of the clusters of murders took place in this part of the country. No one ever got caught.” Eric took a deep breath and sat watching Jay, obviously waiting for a reaction. Jay stared back at Eric, taking a few seconds for his words to sink in and register. “Someone is… copying?” He counted on his fingers. “That’s—” “A really long time. I know. No copies. These are the exact same. I don’t care how long you study something or how many details you collect, one person is going to do something like this differently, even in a very slight way, than someone else.” “There have to be differences.” Eric shook his head. “No, there aren’t. I can show you firsthand accounts of the conditions of the bodies and who they were. I have photos going back to before the Civil War. The body we saw today, it was in the same condition and maimed in the same way as the one I saw five years ago. And those were the same as ones a century ago.” Eric lifted the carry bag up and pulled out files, some they hadn’t gotten from the sheriff’s office. He spread them out like a deck of cards fanned across the table in front of Jay. “Check out the drawings and photos.” “But how could someone—” Jay stopped short and sucked in a breath. He moved the files, opening one after another, seeing evidence right in front of him. Sketches and handwritten accounts evolved to photos and typed words. He traced marks and open wounds on the victims’ bodies with the tip of his forefinger. “They all have the same sorts of gashes and cuts.” Eric nodded. “They do. There are no matches to predatory animals, and people sure as hell can’t do that sort of damage. I’ve tried matching the wounds to dozens of sorts of tools and weapons. Nothing fits, at least not anything that someone had access to now and several hundred years ago.” Jay tapped one of photographs. “I recognize where this one was taken.” He carefully picked it up, and turned it to read the back. “Late sixties. My father said this town was almost shut down by a series of murders. No one was caught and they stopped suddenly.” “There are a number of clusters that take place in the same area, separated by decades.” “The killer isn’t someone,” Jay said softly. “No.” Eric straightened in his chair. “I want to catch this thing, whatever it is. I want to stop it.” Dipping his chin at the collection of papers between them on the table he said, “I have more at home and on my computer. I just brought a few to show you. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy. I’ve never showed anyone these since I was never so directly involved in the investigation. I saw one of the bodies in Cleveland but wasn’t on the homicide team then.” Jay looked down at the files, then up at Eric. It was the truth, and he could see it in Eric’s face, hear it in his voice. For reasons not entirely clear to Jay, he believed and trusted this man, though he barely knew Eric. Nodding slowly, he took the plunge. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re right.” For the Long Run is available in eBook, paperback, audio, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.    
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